


Never Kiss Your Best Friend•L.S.•

by LarryHaveBabies



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe, Bottom Louis, Boyfriends, Eventual Smut, Fluff and Angst, I Tried, Larry Stylinson Is Real, M/M, Mutual Pining, Smut, Teasing, Top Harry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:48:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24214705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LarryHaveBabies/pseuds/LarryHaveBabies
Summary: “ Never fall for your best friend. Your heart can't bear two losses at once. ”OrWhere Harry and Louis are best friends.And maybe, one falls for the other.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	1. Chapter 1

**_DISCLAIMER_ **

THIS IS SOLEY MEANT AS A FAN-FICTION.

_**WARNINGS:** _

1\. **BoyxBoy**

2\. _**Mature content(smut)**_

3\. **Self-depreciation**

* **MUCH MORE TO BE ADDED***

_*Please do not read, if you do not support or are triggered by any of these*_

_Loosely based on a show, I recently watched._

_SOME DIALOGUES OR LINES, MAY BE THE SAME/ INSPIRED BY THAT, BUT I WILL CHANGE MOST OF THE PLOT AND OBVIOUSLY, THE CHARACTERS._

_SO IF YOU COME AT ME, WITH YOUR HATE COMMENTS, YOUR PITCHFORKS I WILL SIMPLY BLOCK YOU._

_I am dealing with enough, already._

_I know, my writing isn't at all perfect. But, please, be constructive while criticizing._  
  


_All the love._


	2. Prologue

_I've faced many challenges._

_I've stayed up all night, to finish assignments._

_I've missed countless parties, just to study for an upcoming test._

_I've rode the train, for two hours just to get to work._

_I've hidden in the janitor's closet to hide my flustered face._

_I've unsuccessfully hidden hickeys from my parents._

_I've been misled too many times._

_I've faced discrimination for being gay._

_I've had many insults thrown my way._   
_Most of which, didn't make sense anyway._

_I've stayed sober to take my friends home after a party._

_So, when my flatmate-cum-colleague Niall, announced_ _at breakfast, and after his constant pleading during lunch and dinner, that it's a Saturday night and we must go out clubbing and live a little, I agreed._

_All I was asking for was, to have a harmless night of clubbing, some_ _self-gratifying_ _attention and hopefully a little cardio on the dance floor and the much-needed drunk action, that I could happily regret the next morning over lemonade and Ibuprofen in my bed; or even better- someone else's._

_Someone hot, with sculpted muscles and some brains._

_That was all I wanted._

_At the end, though, I am just a 25 year old lad, alone and somewhat lonely in a big city; who talks to Siri on the iPhone when bored, who obviously feels his job doesn't pay enough, the right guys don't notice him and his parents don't love him enough, otherwise they would have never tried to set him up. Right?_

_I've faced a lot of the_ _not-my-type_ _boys thrown at me, by life._

_Made a lot of mistakes, in judging people. Especially_ _ex-boyfriends_ _._

_Basically, I've taken the lemons thrown my way, and squeezed them into the lemonade._

_So, when I met him, I didn't realise this was going to haunt me._

_Why did I have to meet him?_

_Why?_

_\----_


	3. Found {SAGA 1}

**_Chapter 1_ **

_17 April, 2020._   
_9:00 P.M._

"Damn", I say, as soon as I get up from the bed.

My head hurt, from the slumber

I sigh and silently groan. The idea of going clubbing, not at all appealing to my tired body.

"Are you ready, yet?" Niall asks, walking into my room with a bag of M&Ms.

"Noo." I groan, almost face palming.

"Come on, Louis. All I've asked is _one_ fun night. One night out of this boring life." Naill says, not even bothering to say more, as he strolls out. He knows he has won

Our life is actually textbook boring.

"Fine." I pout, finally managing to walk towards the mirror.

Giving one last glance at the mirror, I style my caramel coloured hair in a neat-yet-messy look. After putting on the contact lenses, I decide my outfit is okay. This will have to do.

I've chosen black skinny jeans, with a low cut white tank top. With a jean jacket swung over my shoulders.

The outfit, not too grand, but accentuating my curves.

The skinny jeans not concealing what didn't need to be concealed, considering the goal of today's night.

Getting laid.

"I'm ready, Niall." I shout, sneaking a quick glance at the mirror once again.

"Fuck, yeah. Be out in five." Niall shouts right back.

I smile.

Niall and I had met last year at work. Both of us were budding editors at Fashion Scout, a small yet rapidly flourishing magazine. At least I hope it is.

He is better than me, to be brutally honest. But, he didn't show off like most assholes and we clicked almost instantaneously.

I was living with my then-boyfriend, who turned out not so great. And I was officially homeless, when Niall offered to share his flat with me.

Normally, I wouldn't take charity, but he was in need of money, so I ended up moving in.

Now, he's one of my good friends.

It takes a lot to find a best friend.

I had one. . best friend. And he and I were really very close. . but then. .

It's really funny how your thoughts circle back to the thing you're trying so hard to forget. Or someone.

I snapped out of my thoughts, not wanting them to wander to the dark place, to find a half empty Vodka bottle on the kitchen table.

I raise my eyebrows.

"Whoa."

Niall simply shakes his head, before nodding towards the filled shot glass on the table.

"Drink up, Louis."

I shrug and down the shot.

Alcohol is overpriced at clubs, anyway. And my salary was nearly used up, anyways.

"Come on. Our cab is here." Niall says, resisting the urge to drink some more.

I smirk, downing another shot before following Niall, to the cab.

It takes us a good fifty minutes to reach 17Black.

"Niall, that's literally the farthest club from our place. Out of all the clubs you could have chosen. . " I say, smacking his arm as he pays the cab driver.

I'm already a little tipsy.

"Aw, I heard it's quite good. Let's hope we met someone worth the night."

"Yes, I hope so. I could use a pleasant surprise."

Unaware, I had asked for more than I could digest.

  
•••••

There is a lot of pressure on you, being a gay guy.

There's mocking. Then insulting. And oh, there's an 'accidental' brush to your crotch. There's groping.

There's girls trying to jump you.

There's a lot of things that can happen, yet what happened to me was beyond a this.

I was sipping on my third Coke and Rum, sitting beside Niall who already had a girl hanging off his arm.

Lucky bastard.

I was waiting for that imminent eye contact with some other guy, who would be my one night stand.

I watched the crowd lazily. There were underage boys trying to pass as adults. A bunch of old people, trying to look younger. Boyfriends with their girlfriends. Married men, nervously twisting their rings as they try to find the one night partner.

The usual.

I was just about to order up another drink, when I saw _him._

I choked on the last of my drink. Was it really him? It couldn't. It fucking couldn't.

I stare at him.

The same height, the same face. His hair was short now, instead of the flowing curls.

I remember how I used to love running my fingers through his curls.

I remember how he used to hate formal clothing, yet now I see him in a formal shirt, neatly tucked in his trousers.

He's much more leaner now. His body more muscular, biceps bulging out of the white shirt.

I remember how he named those biceps just to annoy me.

It looked like him. But, doesn't feel like him.

Maybe I'm just imagining things. Perhaps.

I'm drunk, after all.

But, it has been five long years. All, without any real or virtual contact.

I steel myself as I cautiously take a step in his direction.

It _is_ him. No, it isn't.

My heart raced at the uncertainty. My racing heartbeat becoming harder to ignore by the second, even through the loud DJ music.

I can't simply ignore him. I can't.

Figuring I had to get this over with, I downed Niall's shot, who was busy maki g out with the girl, and made my way towards him.

I shoved and squeezed.

Finally reaching close enough, to see his face.

He was steadying the drunk girl who had fallen off her stool.

_What a coincidence._

I simply stood there, not moving a muscle.

It was really, _really_ him.

He looks over her shoulder, going to shout something at his 'friend' , stopping mid-sentence when he spots me.

Our eyes meet. Fucking great.

I break the eye contact, dashing to the smoking lounge.

I shut my eyes as I pace in the room.

_Why?_

_Why now?_

It was him.

It was Harry.

**\---**


	4. Chapter 2

We all have friends, don't we?

But at some point of life, there comes a friend who, whether you are in school or college, helps shape you into the person you eventually become. 

At least I had that one friend. With whom I've shared my first smoke, my first sneak-out, got drunk for the first time and then let all of my fiercely guarded emotions and thoughts flow out without the fear of judgement. Or a speck of embarrassment. 

With him, I'd shared my darkest thoughts, he had broken the walls around my heart.

We broke the rules together and later, shared the repercussions too.

We shared many important experiences in life; be it heartbreak, moving on from exes, egging houses for revenge, nursing first hangover, first time violating the school rules, detention, sleepovers, etc. He was there. 

We hung out so much, our mothers also became best friends. And us, their sons.

All the school dances we attended, ditching the usual 'going-with-your-date' and instead choosing to go with each other.

All the comfortable silences, when we lay entangled on the bed, both too lazy to move.

When I learned the responsibility of having each other's backs, taking the blame even when you were not at fault, to save your best friend.

All the blanket-forts, the FIFA games, the football matches, the ice-tea breaks in between movie marathons that we had, seem so long ago.

The weird snapchat filters I'd use, while clicking pictures of him sleeping. And sending him selfies, just to annoy him.

We've had our share of laughter, crying and uncomfortable silences. 

We weren't perfect. No, far away from that actually.

We fought, we cried, we cursed each other. We screamed, we tackled each other. But, we always found a way out. We'd resolve every misunderstanding.

He helped me in ways, not even he knows.

He, unknowingly, saved me from myself. And maybe, I saved him. But, I can't say that for sure, now.

We all have friends, like that, right?

With that friend you've found not just company but companionship. 

With that friend you've lived, liked, loved, lost and learnt to live and love again.

With that friend, you've not just grown old but grown up. 

And, you may no longer be in touch with that friend.

That friend may not even be a friend anymore. Let alone, best friend.

But that friend continues to touch your life at levels you consciously choose to ignore. 

Harry was that friend in my life.

All these memories were locked away, in a deep corner of my heart.

But these memories never die. 

They just fade into time. 

And when they come knocking at the door of reality again, you strangely wish they continued to be a distant dream. Or locked away.

There was a time when I couldn't think of life without him. 

I had never been away from him. 

And then there was today, when I lived a life without him. Or at least am trying.

___

I find myself, with all these thoughts, sitting on the edge of the chair, still in the smoking lounge.

It has taken me years. Five years to force myself to be happy. To forget all those memories, yet I have failed, for they never leave me alone.

Creeping up on me, when I'm least expecting it. When I see couples, or best friends acting all goofy, having a good laugh, in their own bubble, I remember him. 

I get up and hover over the large glass window, aimlessly staring at New York's skyline, lit in the night. Moonlight shining on tree tops, making them glisten.

It was a full moon night.

The people hurry along, in their expensive cars, dressed in shiny clothes. No one stopped to even glance at the beautiful moon. Too busy with their lives.

I've never been that kind of person who ignores nature. I don't know why, I'm drawn to the ways the trees form canopies, the way moonlight makes everything more beautiful, even divine.

Taking out a cigarette from the pack, I carefully place it between my parted lips.

"Here. Let me get that for you." I hear the agonizingly familiar voice say, just as the flame hits the end of my cigarette.

I take a deep breath, and slowly take a drag not bothering to look at the person.

It's him.

I can recognize that voice and cologne anywhere.

He stays there, hovering over me.

"You still smoke?" He says, dragging out the words from his mouth.

It's been too long. 

I've heard his voice for the first time, in five years.

I turn around, bracing myself. He's standing way too close.

Letting out a puff of smoke, I answer his question.

"Old habits die hard, Harry." His name falling out of my mouth as it used to.

He takes a step back. Away from the cloud of smoke, forming in between us.

He just stares at me, my face surrounded by the smoke.

The music though muffled by the door of the lounge, now suddenly seems to fill the silence that settles between us.

He doesn't respond.

And with one swift move, he steps back in my space, one hand going to my waist as he pulls me flush to his chest.

I barely have any time to react, as he looks at me with a cheeky grin.

"Mine, too." 

I don't like the fact that I know what he's talking about. The way he used to just tackle me into a hug, and throw me over his shoulder.

"People change, Harry. They grow up." I say, shrugging off his arm.

"You definitely grew _something_. A fine one at that. But you're still short." He says, biting his lip, gesturing to my bum.

I roll my eyes. He's such an oaf.

I can see he's trying to break my resolve. He's still gesturing wildly, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

I try hard to keep my face emotionless. But as always, I fail, as a giggle escapes my lips.

He never fails to cheer me up. Even now.

I feel blood rush to my cheeks, and I try my best to _not_ look like a blushing fool.

"You're disgusting. Give me a break, I'm big." 

But it's a weak response and he knows it. Because he bursts out laughing at that.

_Just like old times. Pure and uninhibited laughter._

"Come here, you." He says, opening up his arms. Waiting. As if asking for my permission.

I roll my eyes, even though my heart aches a little.

_He doesn't need permission, it's me._

He never did in all those years I had known for him.

I threw away the cigarette as I jumped into his arms.

I can't help but bury my head in his chest as he holds both of us steady. His hands gripping my waist. Just like old times.

He's grown taller. I didn't even think that was possible, but here I am struggling to match his height. I huff, going on my tippy toes to reach his neck. 

I sigh contently, as he rests his cheek on my head, my face now in the crook of his neck.

It's just like the old times. Or the kind of hug you share, when you meet your family after a long time. Or when you meet your best friend for the first time in ages. No matter what happened between the two of you.

______


	5. Chapter 3

The embrace lasted till the warmth of the past faded to give way to the cold, awkward reality of the present. 

There was a reason why we hadn't hugged in all these years. 

Or even met. Not even dared to call each other.

As they say, nothing is perfect. Our friendship too, had it's imperfections.

We had our own story. . And it wasn't a pretty one. Truthfully, it's never pretty when you and your best friend drift apart, right?

Old memories came rushing to the surface and I shifted uncomfortably in his arms. No. Not again.

He realized I wanted to end the embrace as, his warm hands left my trembling waist, and going back to his sides.

The memory of _that_ night struck me, as I took a deep breath.

Determined to ignore the overwhelming feeling, I look up at his emerald eyes, still as beautiful as ever.

"Where do you-"

"What do you-"

We both start simultaneously and I raise my eyebrows. He just shakes his head, smiling at me.

I sigh. He gestures for me to go first.

"So, what do you do, now?" I ask, now looking anywhere but his eyes.

"I am an assistant director, now." He replies, nervously twisting his hands.

"Oh. ." 

It's all I can muster, before a drunk woman slams right into me.

We both barely have any time to react, and sure enough I land up partially on Harry. The lower half of my body throbbing as it hits the floor.

Shit, I may have accidentally hurt Harry.

"I'm sorry, Harry-" 

"It's not your fault, Lou." Harry interrupts.

Lou. 

It's been so long since I heard him calling me that.

It's too much. Too sudden. 

And, I really can't think straight. Not when I'm laying on top of him.

My eyes keep flickering to his lips. The same lips that he can't seem to stop biting as he lays sprawled beneath me.

"I have to say, Lou. You're more . . passionate, when drunk." Harry says, lips automatically forming a cheeky smirk.

I scoff but I know I am probably blushing as I try unsuccessfully, to get up.

"Here, mate." I see a hand trying to help me up.

"Thanks, erm-" Looking up, I see a brown eyed man, with a sculpted body.

"I'm Liam. Liam Payne." His mouth turning into a quick grin as he shakes my hand.

And I probably would've taken this fella home tonight, if I had not met Harry today.

_Way to be a cockblocker._

I know that wasn't Harry's intention, but I can't really think about anyone, but him now.

"Louis. Thanks, Liam. " I grin at the muscular man.

"You're welcome, Louis." Liam smirks.

I am very much aware of my hand still being held by Liam.

Harry is still lying on the floor, with his head on his folded arms.

"You're getting comfortable on the floor, Harry." I say, giving him a disapproving glance. I know that look. He's about to say something silly.

"No. I'm getting comfortable watching two men flirt." He says, mouthing "kiss him, already".

I cringe at that.

"You're disgusting, Harreh!" 

He laughs, finally getting up and dusting his pants. 

The sound of his laughter is music to my ears. 

I've missed this. I've missed _us._

My resolve, all the walls I'd built up this entire time, broke at that.

And I can't help but laugh along, too. 

There's a reason why you can't ever forget the person who has hurt you the most. 

For deep down, beneath the layers of denial and forced smiles, you know that the same person holds the key to happiness in your life.

They hold your heart captive. Always have and probably always will.

Harry was that person for me. 

Five years ago, Harry gave direction to how I viewed life, relationships and myself. 

He influenced majority of my life decisions.

We were best friends. 

And then he just left, killing our friendship, without any reason or justification. 

Yet today, after all these years of unanswered questions and hollow expectations, nothing seemed to matter. 

Feelings that suddenly come knocking at the door of your heart, are the feelings that never left your heart no matter how hard you've tried. 

We continue to laugh for no apparent reason.

Liam just stares at us.

"Harry. You never told me you had such a beautiful friend." Liam says, effectively stopping our little laughing fest.

"Oops." Harry says in between giggles.

"Hi, Harry. I have to say, you have awesome taste in friends." I say, going along with Liam's flirting.

"That's not a thing." Harry points out.

"Now that you've punished me and we're back to being normal. I need to piss."

I fake a grimace.

"What? You're too fancy to be my bathroom buddy, now?" He says, as if everything is back to normal. 

With that, he hurries towards the bathroom.

"So, you're Harry's friend?"

"Yes, and I'm his colleague, too. I'm a production designer."

"I'm going to pretend that I know what that is, so I don't have to hear you explaining it." I joke.

Interacting with Liam is nice. I don't have to put an extra effort.

He's funny, does not take my jokes to heart and basically a 'good boy'.

"See, toilet jokes always break the ice. . Anyhow, what are you doing here? How's everyone back home? Are you still in touch with anyone from school or college? I don't see a ring, so you're not married. You're flirting with Liam, so you are not in any relationship. And, if you were here with your boyfriend, he would have already fucked my happiness. So. . .has Louis Tomlinson come to a club all alone?' Harry fake-gasps, placing a hand over his heart.

"No, I'm here with my friend, Niall. If you look through the crowd and see shocking blonde haired boy making out with someone, that's probably him." I say, rolling my eyes.

Harry has noticed too much, in such a short while.

_Yet, he was still too oblivious to notice-_

No, we're not going there. That was the past.

We walk out of the now crowded smoking lounge.

"Yo, Niall!" I call out loudly over the music, spotting him slumped at one corner of the bar.

Niall swivels around and soon enough, he's coming over towards us, the girl he was making out with, nowhere to be seen now.

"Louuu." Niall says, embracing me.

"You're drunk, Ni. " I say, controlling the laughter building in me.

"I looked everywhere. I called you, a thousand times! Not cool, man. Not cool." He says, petting my hair.

"Aww, were you worried about Boobear?" Harry chimes in, his eyes not matching his teasing words.

"BooBear? Oh, my god. This is gold! Lou- Boobear?!" Niall sputters, before falling into a laughter fit.

I glare at Harry and he simply starts running, throwing a wink over his shoulder.

"You're so dead, Harreh!" I yell, going to chase after him.

After more friendly banter, and necessary introductions, Niall decides to go back to harmless flirting but not before looking at me with a serious expression. I know what he's going to say.

'Go ahead. I'm in safe company. He's an old friend and by the looks of it, he doesn't intend to rape me. I'll meet you at home. If you're coming back tonight, that is.' I say, effectively answering Niall's silent questions.

That boy worries so much, it has to be unhealthy.

That boy can handle alcohol better than I can handle my life.

"I'm right here." Harry says, squinting his eyes at Niall.

"I noticed." I say, my hand instinctively reaching to pinch his side.

"Ow!" He whines, before tackling me in his famous 'tickle-fest'.

\--------


	6. Chapter 4

"Alright, alright." Liam says, trying pull Harry off of me.

"Heyyyy." Harry says, pouting.

He was enjoying watching me squirm underneath him.

"Thank you, oh my god. Liam, thank you." I say, gasping for air as I'm finally released from Harry.

"Let's get something to drink." Liam suggests.

"Um, I think I'm gonna call it an night. You guys carry on." I say, trying to gather what happened tonight. I can't get drunk, who knows what I might do or say.

Nope. Can't risk it.

"Yeah, actually I was gonna clock out, too." Harry says, his eyes twinkling.

"Alright, suit yourself. 'Cause this boy is going downn." Liam says, gesturing inappropriately.

"Ew, Liam. I bet that sounded cool in your head." Harry says, giving Liam a light punch.

"Yeah, whatever. Bye, Harry! Bye, Louis. It was nice to meet you." Liam says, already making his way to the bar before I could say likewise.

"So. ."

"Hm. ."

"Where you headed?" Harry asks, and I know he's not gonna leave till he gets me home. He's always been caring. Kind. A gentleman.

"Before you cockblocked me, I surely was going to head somewhere." I reply, cocking my hip.

"Damn, you still got that sassy attitude, Tommo." Harry says, slinging his arm around me, probably ruining the ironed button-up shirt hugging his biceps.

"Uh-huh. Do you live around here?"

"Yeah, just half an hour from here." Harry says, waving around for a cab.

"There's an app for calling cabs, Harry." Rolling my eyes, at the dork he is, I take out my phone and book us a cab.

"Wait, don't you need to fill out an address or something?"

"Oh, so you do know about technology?" I tease.

"Of course. I'm almost a director after all." He smirks.

"Sure. I put in my address, kind of a reflex. " I say, nervously moving my hand to fix my messy fringe.

It's comfortable and familiar, yet so so so wrong in my mind. My heart, well that's a whole another story.

"Our cab is here, Boo."

"Alright, tell me your address. My flat is a good fifty minute ride from here, so . ." I look up at him expectantly.

Harry looks at me as if he's going to say something but he just smiles, taking my phone, putting down his address.

"Uh, I hate people who keep on changing their address. And, now I'm one of them. Because of you." I say, pinching his side.

"What can I say, I tend to have that effect on people." Harry says, flipping his non-existent hair.

"Sure, jan. "

The rest of the ride passes in a comfortable silence.

"Bye, Harry." I say, as he gets out.

He sticks his head inside the cab window, and stares at the driver.

"What's your problem, man?" The cab driver sneers.

"Louis, get out." Harry says, moving his head away, but keeping his eye on the driver.

"Wha—?" I say, as he opens the door, taking my hand.

"Come on." Harry says, or more like growls, as he pulls me out of the car, throwing the cash on the backseat

"Whatever." The cab driver scoffs, taking off.

"What the fuck was that about, Harry?" I ask, anger starting to boil in the pit of my stomach.

"Louis, he wasn't going to take you home."

"What? How do you know that?"

"Oh, come on. Didn't you see how he kept on looking at you through the front mirror? He switched off his phone, too. He wasn't taking you home, Louis! He was going to do something to you." Harry says shakily, but his face was showing me how angry he really was.

I swallow hard, not knowing what to say.

What can you say if you find out, you've just escaped from something which possibly could have ruined your life? Even. . ended your life?

"No, I didn't notice. Thanks." I say, trying to calm my racing heart.

Fuck. I am usually good at reading people.

"You should, Louis! You should take care of yourself, Lou." His tone softening at my glistening eyes.

"I know. And I am careful, Harry. Mostly. " I manage, trying to assure him. And myself.

"Oh, Lou." Harry sighs, hugging me tightly.

"Let's go." I say, working my way out of his arms, with difficulty.

"Alright." His voice is sad.

"Oh, you live in a crappy apartment." I say, trying to lighten up the mood.

"Yup. Do you live in a big funky apartment?" Harry enquires, going over to the fridge.

"No. I work for a magazine—"

"Fashion Scout."

"How do you know?" I ask, surprised, taking a sip from the water he hands me.

"Just because we don't stay in touch with each other, doesn't mean I can't be in touch with what you've been up to." Harry says, his eyes completely focused on my face.

"You chose not to stay in touch, Harry. I was always there, and you. . You walked away. Without offering the slightest of explainations."

_The truth springs out of my mouth. It would have happened sometime, though._

He begins to say something, then purses his lips.

I silently take another sip from the bottle, trying to calm myself.

He simply stares at his feet. Guilty.

"So. . . how's Anne?" I say, not wanting to dwell on the topic.

"She's good. Yeah, got a new boyfriend, now. . Yeah." He says, twirling one of the rings on his finger.

I wonder if he has any girlfriend or boyfriend.

"And Gemma? Edward? The gang?"

Family. Friends. And me. People he had left behind.

"Yeah, everyone's fine. Doing good. Saw Gems last year. I bumped into Edward, a few months back when I went home. In fact, he was asking me if I knew where you were. . . but um. ." He stops at that, before taking a deep breath.

"Lou. . . I know no apology can make the pain, the hurt I've caused you—"

I cut him off.

"It's okay, Harry. I'm sure you had a reason for doing whatever you did."  
I say, looking away as the buried past threatens to set free.

"I won't deny. It hurt, Harry. I was hurt when. . But, it's okay. You left. I waited. You didn't bother contacting again. I moved on."

The mood turns serious. The tension in the room making the air thicker by the second.

Attempting to change that, I begin again, swallowing all the emotions.

"But hey, look at you. You haven't changed one bit, Harold. Except for this hairstyle. . . Why did you chop off your 'precious' curls?"

He stares at me. Probably trying to find a way past the walls. And inside my mind.

Giving up, he smiles.

"I thought you'd ask more. . deeper questions like how are you, Harry? But no, you want to ask me where my hair went." Harry says, snorting at his own words.

"You dork, what _did_ you do to your hair?"

"I donated it to charity." He shrugs, finally sipping his water.

I stare at him, in awe.

Can anyone _ever_ match up to Harry?

"Lou. . Can I ask you something? I know it's stupid because we just met again in a random club and—"

"No, I'm not showing you my ass tattoo."

Harry snorts, almost choking on the water.

"Oh god." He moans, wiping his mouth, "Why would you assume that?"

"Oh. . I don't know, you used to pester me about that, remember?"

He smiles.

"I do."

I take out a cigarette, and look at him expectantly.

"Okay to smoke?"

"Okay." Harry says, lighting it up for me for the second time.

"You started smoking, too?"

"Nope."

"You just lit up my cigarette."

"I got the lighter from Liam's friend, Zayn. . as a birthday gift. " Harry says, sheepish.

Laughter erupts from my mouth and I curse, as my hand almost burns from the cigarette.

Harry frowns, taking my hand into his, for a better look.

"Wow, what a thoughtful. . . gift."

Harry shrugs, still focussed on my hand.

"He didn't know me."

I take my hand away, placing the cig in between my lips again as I take a long drag.

He observes me.

"What's troubling you?" He asks, as I take in another drag, almost choking on it.

He rubs my back with his warm hands.

"That was too strong. . It hurt my throat." I offer, hoping he'll buy it.

"I can see you're hurting."

Of course, he sees right through me.

Harry's calm composure unsettling me, I take another drag, slowly.

Finally stubbing out the cigarette on the ashtray, I look up at him.

"What?" He's still looking at me.

"Louis, you stopped smoking, back then. . " He says, still stretching on the topic.

"Are you judging me, Harry? Really? Shouldn't I be the one to judge you? You know what, I should leave." I get up, but he stops me.

"An unlit cigarette harms more than a burnt one. A broken heart hurts less than a heart that’s not experienced love."

"Whatever that means, Harry. I’m not in the mood. You have no bloody right to judge my choices in life. You should have stayed, if you cared."

He holds me firmly this time.

"Sit."

"No."

"Sit."

I struggle.

Our eyes lock.

And we kept staring at each other.

"Sit. Hate me but sit."

I start to take out another cigarette, feeling overwhelmed.

"Let's not smoke anymore. " He says, taking away my cigarette pack.

"What's your fucking problem, Harry?!" I scream, trying to keep the tears which were threatening to spill, at bay.

"Because I want us to be _us_ for as long as we can, with undivided attention and unfiltered emotion, without the aid of cigarette smoke provided high."

Silence.

Heavy panting. Both ends.

And that’s when it happened. We both inched forward. Our lips met. Ever so softly.

Like we wanted to feel every sensation, each entangled breath. Together.

Our tongues collided as we exchanged all the unsaid, unheard stories of the past five years, that we hadn’t got the opportunity to share.

The fairy-tale kiss lasted for not more than a skip or two of a second’s hand.

I let my eyes stay shut, still focussing on a feeling I had long forgotten.

"I—"

"I think I should leave." I say, not wanting to hear how this was a mistake.

———


	7. Chapter 5

_"I think I should leave." I say, not wanting to hear how this was a mistake._

He nods, picking up his car keys.

We walk briskly to his Range Rover.

He still has the car, Anne gifted him.

I follow him slowly.

He gets into the driver's seat and I sit beside him on the passenger's seat, wanting all this to be over.

He drives in silence. I glance at him, trying to see any emotion flicker on his face, but he keeps his attention on the road, his face blank.

It's as if I'm invisible. I don't exist, in his car nor in his world. All over again.

I have to control the tear threatening to spill out. I can't cry in front of him.

I give him directions and he simply follows them, almost mechanically, not looking at me at all.

"Yes, make a right here. The third building on the left, that's where I live."

He stops the car in front of the flat, suddenly.

He doesn't make any move to get out, or even say anything so I get out.

I shoot him a final expectant look, and he finally glances at me, mumbling a "Goodbye, Lou", before he drives away.

Away from me, all over again.

_They say if you ever leave someone, at least leave them with an explanation._

_Anything._

_Because abandonment brings misery._

But, he's left again. Without any explanation, whatsoever.

The second time in five years. I know I stopped him from saying anything, but if Harry wants to say something truly, no one can ever stop him.

He didn't. He kept quiet, leaving me alone, again.

Sighing, all of the alcohol effect, finally wearing off, I reach my flat.

I begin to search my pockets for the pack, when I remember that I'd left them at Harry's flat.

Great.

I'm too tired to go and buy another pack, so I settle on drinking.

I rummage around till I see a Vodka bottle, the same one Niall and I took shots from.

Now, piss drunk, I stumble towards my bed.

There are too many obstacles in the path, and I hit my foot against the desk, or something. Because then, all I can feel is pain. Pain being both physical and mental.

I remember the pain I felt when he left me.

The memories of how we became friends, the fucked-up decisions we made, the drunken nights, and how it all ended.

I remember the first time we had kissed.

I remember _our story._

_**Flashback** _

The year was 2015. It was an era of pop stars and Inside Out. People were wary of gay people, or anybody other straight. The usual.

I was sixteen. And living every one of the stereotypes associated with that age and my sexuality.

I wore suspenders, chinos that were a little too red, my hair styled into a fringe, nails painted pink and baby blue.

I was and still am proud of my sexuality. People didn't bother me much, though. It was the beginning of the time when my school started accepting people like me.

Also, there was the fact that our principal had come out of the closet, himself.

Anyways, I was happy to be myself, to be able to express.

Ever since Mr. Sivan came out, people focussed on things other than "You're   
gay?!".

I was secretly glad how well that worked out for me, because I was worried about bullying. Not that I wouldn't stand up for myself, the opposite really.

I would be hit, and next thing the person knew, would be blood coming out of his nose. But that happened only once, and it happened way back.

I was of the age, where I disagreed with my mother on almost everything.

At sixteen, everyone is a rebellious, hormonal teenager finding faults in almost everything.

The problems at sixteen, were. . different.

Bad bosses, shitty jobs, crappy apartments, backstabbing friends weren't plaguing life at sixteen.

In 2015, life was much easier, not that I thought of it then.

It was all about crushes, football practices, making friends, having a good laugh now and then, pissing off teachers, hanging out with the 'gang'.

Who to love? Whom to befriend? And, oh dear did I get that mixed up.

Harry and I met under the most unusual circumstances. In a bathroom, of all places.

His family had moved in next door, and my mum being the amazing person she is, invited them over for dinner.

I didn't know about any of that, as I had football practice that day.

When I returned it was already late, Harry's family was sitting at the dining table along with mine. Harry however, was nowhere to be seen.

I hadn't been given any information about Harry, so as usual after practice I'd gone up to my room, switching on the music, shimmying out I my clothes.

I took a towel from the closet, going inside the bathroom, butt naked, unaware of the fact that someone was already there.

I jumped seeing another person peeing in my bathroom.

"Jeez! Who are you?!" I say, almost dropping my towel, before realising the situation I was in, covering up my bits.

"Oops?" He laughs.

"Hi. .?" I say, confused.

I am livid by the time he washes his hands.

"Who are you?" I say, going for the shampoo bottle, in a warning tone.

"You know that won't do any harm to anyone." He says, chuckling as he comes closer to me.

"Oh, yes, I know. I plan on punching you." I say, still gripping the bottle.

"You don't want to do that, babe. I'm Harry, your next door neighbor."  
He explains, and I slowly keep the bottle back, still weary.

"Oh. . I'm Louis." I say, as we walk out of the bathroom.

"I figured." Harry says, pointing to the   
picture in my bedside. It was my favourite picture, of my family. We all looked super happy in that picture.

"Oh, but what are you doing here, in my room?"

"I had to use the bathroom." He replies, going closer to look at the frame.

"Thanks for stating the obvious, genius."

"You're feisty. I like that."

"You're cocky."

"But you like that?" He says, smiling so wide his dimples pop out.

"Whatever, Dimples. Now I'm going to shower, go down." I say pointing to the door.

"Can I join?" He smirks.

"No, now out." I say, a giggle escaping my mouth.

"Alright, Boobear." He says, walking out of my room.

I am left flabbergasted.

 _Of course_ , my mum told my embarrassing nickname.

I groan, whyy.

I put on some clothes and my glasses.

Harry and his family had left before I could meet them, and I didn't feel hungry. So, I decided to get on with homework, which was slowly piling up due to my fantastic ability of procrastination.

**———**

**Author's Note:**

> Thoughts?


End file.
